“Lord Biendeoé, you’re okay with the house being a bit smaller, right?”
[Death and Beauty wonders if anything smaller than their current residence isn’t just a doghouse.]
Apparently having long forgotten the days when the Cult barely had a headquarters worth mentioning, Biendeoé responded with the arrogance of a frog who had forgotten his tadpole days. Still, Kim Sibaek had made up his mind.
“I’m going to move into the dorms.”
It wasn’t that he intended to cut ties with Tae Woon. But at the very least, he needed physical distance to get a grip on himself. He couldn’t keep being a shameless piece of trash who responded to kissing his own younger brother.
To keep his resolve from wavering, Kim Sibaek immediately asked Yang Eunho for information on dormitory accommodations.
***
Though the monster habitats were separated by Barriers, those were ultimately lines drawn by humans. There hadn’t been a major swarm like the one in October where monsters gathered at the Barrier en masse for no reason, but smaller raids still happened now and then.
Because of this, unawakened civilians generally avoided working at the facilities located outside the Barrier. Still, Hunters moved in and out constantly, so these areas had a lot of foot traffic—and that meant convenience facilities were a must.
Not just the Paranormal Phenomena Response Agency but the guilds themselves regularly patrolled the Barrier to demonstrate that it was safe. Even so, civilians remained hesitant. And in places that were hard to staff despite the high wages, illegal practices were bound to happen.
It was an open secret that undocumented immigrants or people with unclear identities were hired outside the Barrier at wages far below minimum. So it wasn’t surprising to see a convenience store, lit 24/7, with a foreign-looking part-timer working 12-hour shifts every day.
Two Hunters, fresh from the sauna, stopped by a convenience store before heading back to the raid team’s quarters.
“I’m dead tired. How many days have we been out in the field now?”
“What’s with the Vice Guildmaster? He’s still doing magic experiments over the Giantvine incident?”
“Even the Strike Team Captain has no idea.”
They whispered to each other in low voices. Their guild uniforms bore the logo of a winking cloud—members of the Sky High Guild.
Typically, guild emblems were commissioned from professional designers. Some were ostentatiously retro or flamboyant, but Korean guilds often opted for simple, in-house designs. Honestly, anything not drawn with one’s feet was likely to look better than the Seven Guild’s infamous “7” emblem.
The two Sky High members grabbed some beer and snacks, then queued up at the register. One of them, fiddling with his phone out of boredom, elbowed the other.
“Hey, check this out. You know that crow people say might be a cult symbol or some NIS psyop? The one always hanging around that S-rank from Seven? He talks to it and takes it everywhere.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, it was caught on video.”
On his phone screen, Kim Sibaek could be seen feeding popcorn to a baby crow and saying something to it.
“That’s some next-level branding.”
“Could be legit though. If I were the only person on Earth who Awakened with healing powers, and a crow just happened to be there at that moment? I’d probably start worshipping it too.”
“Still, he’s never actually said anything that dramatic. So what’s your conspiracy theory?”
“Well, with the Seven Guildmaster right next to him all the time, it doesn’t feel like a cult, you know?”
“Yeah… the Guildmaster’s not the type to keep a nutjob around.”
Whatever the case, Tae Woon was someone Hunters looked up to. Envy required at least a comparable level of skill. When faced with someone as overwhelmingly powerful as Tae Woon, it wasn’t envy they felt—it was reverence.
“Doesn’t it seem like the Guildmaster low-key looks after the crow too?”
“Well, it’s his boyfriend’s pet bird. Of course it’d be cute to him.”
“Boyfriend? Are they actually together? No one’s said they’re dating.”
“If that’s not dating, then what is?”
Even as they unloaded their items onto the counter, their conversation didn’t stop. The part-timer, scanning barcodes with a blank expression, suddenly sucked in a deep breath.
“Uh, excuse me. Sirs?”
“Yeah?”
“That video you’re watching on your phone… could I take a look too?”
“Oh, sure. Go ahead.”
Only then did the two guild members really look at the part-timer, whom they’d been treating like some NPC. They’d assumed he was a foreigner and probably undocumented, but his Korean was incredibly fluent—fluent enough to sound native. It was odd that he wore sunglasses even indoors, but maybe he had sensitive eyes.
And that man, who now wandered the outside of the Barrier like a vagabond and had caught the eye of the convenience store owner, allowing him to live and work in the storage room for half minimum wage…
…was Edokers, a former Paladin of Chaos and current undocumented part-time worker.
His eyes flew wide open.
The man on that phone screen—so hauntingly familiar—was none other than the Apostle of Death and Beauty.
The nightmare who had brought endless death to the countless monsters he had once loved and cherished was here.
“Are you alright?”
Thoughts of finishing the checkout process vanished entirely. His legs gave out, and he collapsed behind the register. A concerned voice called out to him, but he didn’t hear a thing. His trembling arms clutched his now ghostly pale face.
Why the hell is he here? Did he… did he follow me? Is he really here to finish me off—for good?!
Even when Edokers had been at the peak of his power, that Apostle had filled him with dread. And now? Now that he was little more than a shattered fragment, barely clinging to existence…
There was no doubt—he was going to die. This time, he wouldn’t just break apart. He’d be wiped out completely, without even a trace left behind. And there was nowhere to run. When a nightmare like that had followed him all the way to another world… where else was there to go?
Choking back a sob, Edokers clenched his teeth, trembling with terror.
***
Thankfully, no monsters showed up during the one-day class. His thoughts were a chaotic mess, but he still managed to finish building the wooden stool—and complete the quest. On his way back, lazily swinging the stool in one hand, he thought of the text he’d received from Yang Eunho.
[Since you’re single, Mentor, you’ll be placed in a 20-pyeong unit. Pets are allowed, too.]
More than enough space for one man—and a bird. The real problem was telling Tae Woon he was moving out. Of course Tae Woon would try to stop him. And if Sibaek lost his nerve and made another mistake he couldn’t take back… that’d be the end of him.
Still wrestling with those thoughts, he arrived back at the Seven Guild building. The entrance was familiar now, but the atmosphere felt different. Off.
And there he was.
Tae Woon.
“……”
He stood motionless by the door, ignoring the greetings of every person who passed. His face was a blank mask. And seeing him now—right after deciding to leave—sent a jolt of nerves through Kim Sibaek.
He forced on a calm expression and waved like it was no big deal.
“Woon-ah, what are you doing out here?”
Tae Woon’s head turned at the sound of his voice, tracking him like a compass needle. And then—
Kim Sibaek’s heart crashed to the floor.
Tears were streaming down those pale cheeks.
“Wh—Wh—What?”
The shock rendered him speechless. His brain went completely white, as blank and raw as the tears trickling down Tae Woon’s face.
[Death and Beauty is in complete shock.]
And it wasn’t just them. All around, gasps, cries, and startled shrieks erupted like popcorn: “Hik!” “Heok!” “Oh my god!” “Eek!”
It was like a cold-affinity Hunter had swept through the area—freezing the entire front plaza in place. And in that chill, only Tae Woon’s face looked heartbreakingly alive.
“Hyung…”
“Uhh… huh?”
“Are you… really going to throw me away?”
“Uhh…?”
The silence that followed was so thick, you could hear a pin drop. All that filled the frozen air were Tae Woon’s trembling words—and Kim Sibaek’s flustered stammering. Just a few days ago, he’d carried Tae Woon out of the Eid Portal like a prince carrying his beloved. And now here they were, breaking up in public.
The guild members watching, suddenly transformed into unintentional spectators, were riding an involuntary dopamine high.
Panicking, Kim Sibaek finally managed to pull himself together. But that didn’t mean he’d regained full control of his senses—his brain was still a clean, white slate, and he had no idea what to say.
Flailing helplessly, he did the only thing that came to mind: he scooped Tae Woon up into his arms.
And ran.
Thankfully, he didn’t go so far as to carry him princess-style this time—his last shred of reason just barely held on.
Naturally, the company message board was completely flooded later that day—with photos of the One Whose Name Must Not Be Spoken cradling a man the size of a bear like he was a precious little hamster.
